Vanilla Shampoo
by CandyAngel1
Summary: Rent-fic. I'm not sure where this is going, but it focuses on Roger and Maureen. Please r/r.
1. Poetic Habit

A/N: As always, characters belong to the late great Jonathan Larson. It's an attempt at Maureen POV. Please read and review!  
  
"What the hell do you know?" Roger really knows how to make a girl feel appreciated. That death glare of his makes me feel at home, as always. I smirk back, because I don't take his attitude like everybody else does.  
  
Roger stalks off to his room.  
  
"Lots." I call after him. Rehash of the last hour: Mimi and Roger fight over something stupid (not that I can talk! I love you too, Joanne). Roger storms up to the loft (and they say I'm a drama queen) and starts bitching to Mark. Mark is sick of it and leaves (he said he needed to go grocery shopping. HA! Five bucks says he went down to the Life). I overhear it all because I was around during this fated hour (why me, God, why?). So I offer Roger words of wisdom ('Roger, quit being an ass and apologize.' 'Super- bitch. Look who's talking!') and of course this sparks an argument. That wasn't my fault though (if he did like I said and stopped being an ass he'd be having great make-up sex now!) So he gets all huffy and leaves.so that's where we are.  
  
I hear him collapse on his bed and play the familiar chords of Moonstruck. C.C E G C B.C E G B-F. F? No. G? No. Strumming angrily, he searches for the note. How can he miss that note? He played the riff so many times that even I know the notes. He must be really pissed.  
  
I lean my head on the shut door and hear the clunk of the guitar as it hits the floor. I really feel bad for him though. We never really liked each other; it was more of a truce between us once I started dating Mark.  
  
"She'll come around. It's odd how I can relate. I generally don't associate myself with you."  
  
"Thank God."  
  
"Joanne and I had another fight," I get right to the point, as I focus on a stain on the carpet.  
  
"Figures. Are you spending the night at the loft?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"You'll have to take the couch this time."  
  
"Damn. Usually, I get your bed." I push the door open and skipped to his bed, lowering myself next to him.  
  
"I was wondering why my pillow smells like vanilla." I raise my brow in surprise. Roger knows shampoo scents?  
  
"It could be Mimi's."  
  
"Nope. Mimi smells like strawberries, but you--you've always used vanilla shampoo. Haven't you?"  
  
"Huh. I guess you know your shampoos." The corner of his mouth lifts into a smile.  
  
"Nah, I just pick up on weird stuff like that. It's poetic habit."  
  
"You sound like Mark. It's pathetic!" We both laugh for a while, me more than Roger. At least I was laughing harder until I rolled off the mattress and fell a foot to the floor. That got him really laughing.  
  
"No Maureen, that's pathetic!" It was while before either of us could speak again.  
  
"Anyway, Rog," I look into his eyes, "If you ever need somebody to talk to, you've got me too." Our eyes lock.  
  
"Thanks." 


	2. Our Safety Net

A/N: I have no idea what possessed me to continue this but.I hope you like it. I'm trying to keep in character. Critiques are appreciated. And if I were brilliant like Jonathan Larson, I wouldn't be posting here. This one is gonna be a Roger POV.  
  
I have never felt more awkward in my whole life. There Maureen sat on the edge of my mattress, holding eye-contact with me. Her chocolate eyes flickering briefly with-I don't know. It certainly was an expression that I have never seen on Maureen.  
  
She breaks the stare and bounces off my bed, startling me out of my puzzlement. Tossing her head back she laughs, putting her back into her prima donna mode. Her fake smile never extends to her eyes. Her eyes glossing over, reminding me about everything I can't stand about her.  
  
I've never liked, nor even tried to understand her. She was the kind of girl who picked up strangers at bars out of pure boredom. The girl who acted like a ditz, even though she's much more intelligent. She used her sexuality to walk all over people and get whatever she wanted. I didn't have much respect for her.  
  
I turn back to my guitar, but continue to watch her out of the corner of my eye. The loft door creaks open and Maureen bursts to greet whoever was there.  
  
"Markie!" Maureen squeals. It's amazing how quickly she goes from thoughtful to bubbly.  
  
"You're still here?" Mark asked, confused. I bet he was counting on me to scare Maureen off. I guess I have that affect on people when I'm angry and don't retreat to my room.  
  
"Of course! I'm spending the night," Maureen announces. Mark sighs heavily, and I hear his footsteps go into the kitchen. The springs squeak as Maureen flops on the couch.  
  
I never actually thought about how Mark felt about me, Maureen, Mimi, even Joanne dropping in when we had problems. Whenever anyone had a fight, they went to Mark for solace and usually a place to stay for the night. Had I ever ruined his evening with my ranting? Probably. I don't think I had spent time with Mark for the sole sake of spending time with him in a while. The rest of our little family was too involved with work and lovers to think of Mark as more than a safety-net.  
  
Mark pokes his head into my room after a few minutes. I motion for him to come in, but he only does so reluctantly.  
  
"I was hoping for a quiet evening. I got myself a movie and everything," Mark sulked.  
  
"Forget that. Not with Maureen in the house. You want to go get a drink?" Mark blinked in surprise. "What?"  
  
Mark realized he was gawking and stopped. "Sure," he shrugged. "It's just that we haven't done that in a while. Should I call Collins?"  
  
"If he doesn't have work tomorrow."  
  
Mark headed towards the door, but stopped.  
  
"What's wrong?"  
  
"Nothing," Mark was thinking hard. "It's just that.well, you've never been in this good of a mood after a fight with Mimi."  
  
Mark left the room, but I thought about what he said. Mark was right.I was feeling great. 


	3. Best Sunday Ever

A/N: Ha! Another chapter.This is not turning into Mo/R, I promise! Please keep reviews coming. I will try to update soon.  
  
Joanne's couch was so much nicer the Mark and Roger's. In fact, most of the apartment was much nicer than the loft. Maureen squished up against Joanne's chenille pillow. It was so soft, just like Joanne's hair, and her skin, and her-  
  
Joanne burst in through the door, practically out of breath. "Honey Bear! I've got something to show you."  
  
She darted to Maureen's side, which was good because Maureen wouldn't have gotten up anyway. The chenille was much too comfortable.  
  
"Maureen," Joanne said breathily as she ripped her sweater off revealing a black lacy bra. "I thought we could do something," Joanne reached into her brief case for a bottle of chocolate syrup and a dildo, "special tonight."  
  
Joanne had a naughty little smile on as she uncapped the syrup and began to pour the syrup over her chest . She pooled some chocolate in her hand. Maureen grabbed Joanne's wrist aggressively and licked the syrup right out of her hand. This would be the best chocolate Sunday ever.  
  
"Maureen," Joanne cried, "Maureen!" The chocolate, however, didn't taste like chocolate at all.  
  
"MAUREEN!" Joanne said frantically, without passion. "WAKE UP!"  
  
Maureen wrenched her eyes open mid-lick to find neither Joanne, nor the chocolate sauce. She found Mark's hand and a very anxious expression on his face.  
  
"Uh.Maureen? Can I have my hand back?" She dropped Marks hand immediately, and straightened herself up.  
  
"Sorry, um.strange dream," Maureen explained.  
  
"Right."  
  
"So." There was a very awkward silence. "What time is it?"  
  
"Almost noon."  
  
"Yeah, well.how was 'boys' night out'?"  
  
"Great. I don't think I've been out drinking with Collins and Roger, especially Roger, in a long time. I don't understand it. Roger was in such a great mood."  
  
"Huh."  
  
"In fact, he paid for drinks. I haven't seen him that happily drunk in a long time." Mark was grinning stupidly as he remembered Roger drunk and singing like an Irishman.  
  
"Sounds like fun."  
  
"It was. I'm sure he's got a killer hangover right now."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"So.you going back to Joanne's soon?"  
  
"No." Maureen wanted to talk to Roger first, which would be impossible if she woke him now. So she'd have to wait. "I couldn't stand the sight of that bitch at the moment! You wouldn't believe what she said last night! First she." Maureen prattled on to Mark, rehashing her fight until Mark made a feeble excuse to leave. 


End file.
